


There You'll Be

by orphan_account



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Future Fic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-07 08:32:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10356411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jonny falls in love. Again.Title from "There You'll Be" by Faith Hill





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic ever, which is pretty exciting! I'm not exactly sure how it'll turn out until the end, and it's going to be a work in progress. But I'm really happy to finally be writing something about these two, because I've wanted to for a while now!
> 
> This fic takes place in the partially 2015-2016 season, the summer of 2016, and the 2016-2017 season. I'm not going to remember how every single game went, so please bear with me. It's partially a future fic because some of the season hasn't happened yet.
> 
> More notes will be at the end of the chapter.

Jonny remembers Bowman telling him about this out-of-this-world Russian that they were planning to sign. He remembers the exact meeting he had with Q and Stan and McDonough. Jonny didn't really know anything about the kid. He wasn't even a kid at the time. But all he knows is that when he finally saw a picture of Artemi Panarin, his heart sank to his stomach.

Not that there's anything wrong with Panarin, because there's not. He's fucking  _sick_. He's got great hands, speed, an incredible slap shot, and unbelievable passes. And that was exactly why Jonny hated him at first.

The first day Panarin arrived in the locker room, Jonny's eyes panned over to Patrick, who was staring at Panarin with that fucking cocky grin slapped on his face. He knew that Patrick knew that they were going to be linemates - that they were going to play some incredible hockey together. And Jonny didn't want that. Because he wanted to play incredible hockey with Patrick, but those times are long gone. Jonny knew it was never going to happen again, because Q likes to "spread the wealth", and that's fine.

The first practice was a fucking nightmare for Jon. He couldn't take his eyes off of Patrick and Panarin as they threw passes to each other up and down the ice. Sometimes, Pat would deke and throw a puck top-shelf on Crow, and they would come back the other way and Panarin would take a slapper that flew right past Darls. And Jonny was angry.

When the season began, he knew that it was going to be rough. Not in the sense that he was going to have a hard time, but that it was going to be hard watching Kaner and Panarin -  _Bread Man_ \- and Arty tear it up. In the first couple of games, Jonny knew that Kaner and Bread clicked. He could just tell - he remembers that feeling: rushing up and down the ice with Pat on his right, fist bumps when they got off the bench, side conversations here and there about the most random things. 

Jonny didn't have a problem with it at first. But then they were playing the Leafs in Toronto, and Kaner scored his first ever regular season hat trick. Jonny was so freaking happy, and when Pat came to the bench, Jonny reached up for a high-five, or a fist bump or something. And he didn't know if Pat didn't see him or ignored him, but he passed right by Jonny and sat in between Teuvo and Hoss while Panarin was still on the ice. And Pat was grinning at him like there was nothing better in this world. They whispered a couple of quick words to each other, and Jonny's stomach churned with something he never felt before. Then, Pat held his hand up for a high-five.

And Jonny was  _pissed_.

He was pissed that Q had found Pat a perfect linemate, while Jonny has been thrown in the center between over 20 different wingers throughout his career. He was pissed that even though he was the number one center, the Panarin-Anisimov-Kane line was always going to be the top line, no matter how many different ways Q tried to spin it.

But mostly, he was pissed that Kaner was having a ridiculous season without him on his line, and without him in his life.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

When the lose in the first round of the playoffs, Jonny's confused. He doesn't understand what went wrong. The Blackhawks were great. They had an awesome season. And the Blues just had to fuck it up. And David Backes just had to be a pain in the fucking ass. And Troy - God, he used to be Jonny's  _teammate_ \- just couldn't leave them alone, had to be a little pest. And of course, Tarasenko just had to score basically every goal that went in the net and-

Whatever. Jonny's just mad, in general.

To blow off steam, the team decides to go out to a bar in St. Louis. They don't care anymore. Hockey's over and they just want to have a good time. They grab three tables in the back corner of the bar. It's got a huge dance floor where people are just grinding all over each other and making out with faces, not lips. It's gross. Jonny doesn't like it. But he stays.

He squishes Duncs into the booth, and keeps shoving just to piss him off. He's got one beer in each hand, and he's laughing his ass off for no reason. Jon's just trying to have a good time when he feels a stare. He's so used to the staring from Patrick that Jon just tries to let it go. But this time, he can literally  _feel_ Pat's eyes burning holes in his face, in his body. It's uncomfortable, to say the least.

Jonny looks up, and Pat looks away. What a dipshit.

He starts conversing with Duncs, Seabs, and Hoss about how the Caps are going to lose in the second round, as usual.

"They just can't seem to figure it out," Duncs argues. All of them shake their heads in agreement.

"It's the Caps Curse, dude," Seabs says. "No one gets it."

"They're just too good to lose that early on," Jonny states. Everyone looks at him. Oops?

"So were we, and the Blues just fucking trampled us," Shawzy yells from the other side of the booth. It's too fucking loud in here.

"Alright, let's not get ridiculous here, boys. We weren't _trampled_ , c'mon. Have some fucking faith," Crow says. Jonny nods his head. Just because they got knocked out early on doesn't mean they're a bad team. They're the motherfucking Chicago Blackhawks, for crying out loud. They've won three Cups in the last six years. Some consider them a freaking dynasty.

The guys argue back and forth about how they're the best team in the league since Patrick was drafted, which is true. Partially, at least. All of those years of saucers and no-look passes that led to slap shots and wristers ending up in the back of the net. Neither Patrick nor Jonny knew how they happened. When they were on the ice together, everything just fell in to place, like their friendship. It was easy, smooth. Jonny's not sure where it all went wrong.

But he does know, that's the thing. He remembers how it all happened. Jonny looking at the news, immediately calling Patrick, constantly asking him,  _Did you do it? Did you do it? Don't tell you me you did this, Patrick_ , and Patrick talking over him, screaming,  _Jonny, no! What the fuck is_ wrong _with you?! You know I would never do that_. And shit, of course he knew Patrick would never do something like that. Not in a million years. Jonny couldn't even fathom his best friend doing something like that. But he felt the need to question him, and then Jon was yelling at Pat and Pat was screaming at Jon about he couldn't even trust him. And what the actual fuck, Jon trusted Patrick with his entire life. It was all bullshit. The whole conversation was bullshit, but Jon was the one who started it. The one who got into it with his best friend. The one who told Patrick,  _Let me know when you get your shit together. Then we'll talk_. In that moment, he recognized that he messed it all up. Patrick didn't even fucking respond to him. Just hung up the phone, and Jonny slammed his face into the pillow and sobbed forever. At least that's what it seemed like.

So, yeah. Jonny does know where it all went wrong. He doesn't feel like he could ever allow himself to acknowledge that, though.

"We have faith," Patrick says. His voice is quiet, but everyone hears him. Patrick looks up, but he's only looking at Jonny.

Jon wants to roll his eyes so hard right now.

"It's just all bullshit," Jon says, right to Patrick. He knows what Jon means. "The whole thing is bullshit." Now he turns to the guys when Patrick gets a clue. "The playoffs are pure luck sometimes, guys. I can almost bet the Pens are gonna win simply because they've been lucky." Duncs scoffs.

"Alright, Tazer. How much are you gonna bet?" Duncs asks. Jon smirks.

"$250. Take it or leave it, hot shot." Duncs' smile quickly turns into a frown. Jonny looks around the table. "Any of you want to bet against me?"

"$300," Crow says.

"I ain't going higher than $50, you dick wad," Seabs announces.

"$500, asshole," Shawzy screams. God, he's so loud and obnoxious it makes Jonny laugh.

The guys all start throwing in money. At this point, Jon's going to be even more of a millionaire than he already is. He pulls out his phone in the middle of this whole interaction and texts Sid, _pls win the Cup. it's important_.

When everyone finishes with their bets, the only one who hasn't said anything is Patrick. All of the guys look at him. Pat's on his phone, because of course he is. He's trying to distance himself from the conversation. He always does this.

"Kaner?" Crow asks. Patrick looks up from his phone and decides to join.

"Hm?" Fucking asshole.

"Are you going to bet?"

Patrick thinks. Why does everything have to be this difficult with him?

He looks at Jon, straight faced, and says, "I'll let Jon know."

Fucking  _fuck_ him. He's such an ass. He knows it, too. But Jon's teammates laugh like it's some kind of inside joke they're all sharing. Jon doesn't get it. Patrick raises an eyebrow, and Jon's heart seizes up in his chest.

He gets it now.

 *     *     *     *     *

 

Jonny and Lindsey have been together for a long time now, except Jonny doesn't really know how long. Three years? Four?

It's whatever.

So when their anniversary comes up, Jonny forgets. And it's not because he wanted to forget. He just doesn't  _know_ how long it's been, because it's been that long. And Lindsey comes home from work while Jonny makes some dinner, and plants a kiss on his cheek. He has the urge to wipe it all off - the saliva, the lip gloss, and the feelings that come with it.

"Happy Anniversary, babe," Lindsey says, and Jonny freezes because  _fuck_. He turns slightly to see his girlfriend with a big smile on her face. Jonny feels like shit.

"Yeah, uh," Jonny stutters, but Lindsey's face doesn't fall. "Happy Anniversary."

Lindsey smiles even wider, and Jon doesn't know how that's possible, and pecks him on the lips. Jonny tries not to cringe. He doesn't remember when he became this tense around his girlfriend.

Jonny finishes up dinner while Lindsey is on the phone with her mom in the living room. He catches a few words here and there throughout the conversation, but not enough to know what they're talking about. Jonny hums to the soft music playing in the background. It's something Lindsey put on the TV, just so that there wasn't any dead air in the house. He carries the pan of chicken and the pot of cooked vegetables to the dining room table.

"Linds," he calls out. She doesn't look up from her phone. Jonny sighs, and calls her again, with an annoyed tone. She lifts her head. "Drink?"

"Wine is fine," Lindsey says, and Jonny internally groans. He doesn't really care for wine. Never has. He's more of a beer guy, and sometimes a gin and tonic in the right moment. He thinks now is one of those moments.

Jonny pours his girlfriend a glass of Merlot, slowly and carefully, as if he's trying not to spill the entire bottle. His hands aren't shaking, but something is inside of him. Jon makes himself a gin and tonic as Lindsey makes her way over to the table.

There's only four seats, and Jonny decides to sit directly across from Lindsey instead of to her left like he normally does. She doesn't really notice, or at least it doesn't seem like it. Jonny plates his food, and digs right in.

The dinner is mostly quiet, with Lindsey asking Jon a few questions here and there about what their plans are for the summer. He's tried his best to not think about summer plans. He's annoyed enough with the fact that the Hawks went out in the first round of the playoffs. It's probably for the best, considering how much they all need the rest, but they need another Cup, too.

Well, they  _want_ another Cup. But Jonny feels like he needs one. Maybe he just needs another gin and tonic, instead.

Lindsey finishes her dinner quickly. She never really eats that much. Jon can't comprehend why. "I talked to Amanda today." Jon stops cutting his chicken to finally look at his girlfriend. Lindsey is already staring at him.

"Yeah?" Jonny asks. He's confused. Lindsey doesn't ever talk to Amanda. She's never been the greatest of friends with her. Linds prefers to hang out with Elina, and sometimes Dayna. But  _never_ Amanda.

Lindsey nods her head, then takes a long sip of her wine. She's already on her second glass. "Mhmm." She takes another sip. 

She doesn't say anything other than that, just sits with her arms on the table and stares at Jon. He stares right back, but everywhere except her eyes. Instead, Jon looks over Lindsey's features as quickly as possible without seeming weird. He first looks at her hair, and now realizes how many times she's styled it differently since they got together. Jon knows Lindsey was in a bad place around the time they started talking, and no one was quite happy with them being together.

'Cherie, I'm worried about you,' his mother said when Jon told him he thought he loved Lindsey. It had been about three months since they started officially dating, and Jon thought he was in love.

'Maman, don't be worried, please. I think this is serious,' Jon said. He had no idea what serious was at the time. Andrée sighed on the other end of the line.

'Jonathan, of course I have a right to be worried. You're only twenty-three years old. You think you're in love. And you've known the girl how long?' It wasn't really a question. It was more of an accusation.

Jon had never been the dating type. He didn't really sleep around much, either. He was too afraid of what it would do to his image - too scared. He didn't want to be traded away from the Blackhawks. Chicago was his  _everything_. But as soon as he met Lindsey, there was something different. She was gorgeous in every way physically. He didn't really factor in the personality aspect. He just liked to look at her. But he didn't think that mattered at the moment.

'That doesn't matter. I love her. I swear.'

Jonny did love her. A lot. Loved her enough to be in a relationship with her long-term, which he really hadn't done with anyone else before. But now, as he looks at his girlfriend who's still watching him from across the small dining room table, he doesn't know where that all went. He doesn't know where it is. He doesn't know how long it's all been gone.

Jon clears his throat. They've been sitting in silence for a few minutes now. He glances away from Lindsey's stare. "What did you guys talk about?" He doesn't really want to know what they talked about. He's really just trying to make some discussion out of nothing, as this point, so his girlfriend will stop fucking staring him down.

Lindsey doesn't reply. At least Jon doesn't think she's ever going to. She finally looks away, out the windows, and focuses her gaze on something far away. Jon watches her carefully. After a few moments, she glances back down at her empty plate, even though it wasn't that full in the first place.

"They're done." Jon chokes on the gin and tonic he just took a sip of.  _What_ _?_

He finally gets himself to calm down, and looks at Lindsey. There's a little bit of fire in her eyes. Now Jon's confused as hell. First off, why would Amanda tell  _Lindsey_ out of all people that Amanda and Pat broke up? They're not even friends. They're barely even acquaintances.

"Um, when did this happen?" is all Jon can put together right now. He wants to know exactly when this happened, so Jon can sort a few things out in his head. If Amanda and Pat broke up a while ago, like two days ago, the team would've probably figured out first. Hell, Abby probably would've texted Jonny to tell him despite the fact that he and Sharpy haven't talked since the trade.

"Today," Lindsey says, and now she has Jonny's full attention, because what the  _fuck_.

"What?" Jon asks, because he has no other words. He doesn't even know what to ask. Well, he actually does. He wants to know everything that happened, and he feels like maybe he should call Pat. But that's not possible. It hasn't been possible for a while now.

Lindsey sighs. "Yeah, I know." She shrugs. "Can't really say I'm surprised, though." She lets the statement linger in the air, like she's waiting for Jon to ask,  _and why aren't you surprised?_ But he doesn't. He can't. He wants to know, but at the same time, he just wants to leave it be.

Apparently Lindsey can't see that, so she continues. "I knew they weren't going to last. Amanda is completely in love with him, but Patrick never felt the same way." Still, Jonny doesn't say anything. What can he say? Lindsey goes on. "You could always tell by the way she looked at him, and how he never looked back. It was almost like he didn't want to disappoint her if he did look back."

Jonny bites his tongue. He knows what she means, because he's been doing it to Lindsey for as long as he can remember.

"How did it happen?" Jon asks. Lindsey purses her lips and narrows her eyes at him.

"Amanda was  _tired_ , Jonny. She's been tired for the past year. She just didn't want to do anything about it because she was afraid everything was going to spiral out of control." And by that last part, she means Amanda didn't want to disappoint Pat's family, who probably loves her more than Pat ever did.

Jonny wants to know how Lindsey knows all of this, and how she figured it out, because they don't talk. Like ever. Jon can't remember the last time he saw Amanda and Lindsey hanging out at one of the team parties, or organizational events. Even when the team and everyone's wives and girlfriends went out to drink, the two of them stayed as far away from each other as possible. Everyone knew there was some dislike between the two of them. No one could ever understand it, because Jonny and Patrick were attached at the hip. They were best friends, so it was weird that their girlfriends weren't.

"When did she tell you?"

"Right after it happened," Lindsey responds quickly, and Jonny's a little freaked out now. He doesn't understand what's going on.

"But you're not-"

"Friends?" Lindsey interrupts with a laugh, like it's impossible for Jon to believe what she's telling him. And it kind of is. "Yeah, I know. I was genuinely surprised when she told me that I was the first one she called." Lindsey toys with her fork, clinking it against the plate. The sound is making Jonny's ears bleed. "But she knows I was one of the only ones who knew what was going on with them."

Jon freezes. What in the fuck does she mean by that? He shakes his head.

"I-I don't get it."

Lindsey really laughs now. "Jon, what part _don't_ you get? They broke up, okay? They're done. Amanda was hysterical. It's almost five years of her life wasted on a man that was never in love with her. She's almost thirty years old. She should be getting  _married_ soon, and instead-" Lindsey stops to breathe. Words are just spilling out of her now. Jonny tries his best to make it seem like he can't believe what he's hearing.

"Linds-"

"And instead she's dumping him because-" Lindsey stops again. She's holding something back. Jon knows it. He just knows. Lindsey lets out a breath. She shakes her head.

"Lindsey." She looks up at Jon. Meets his eyes. Frowns. He doesn't recognize the look she's giving him. "Why is she dumping him?"

The words that come out of his girlfriend's mouth aren't surprising. He's known it all along. Of course he's known. How couldn't he have known? But when she says them, Jonny feels like he just got stabbed in the stomach.

"Patrick is gay." 

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

Jonny can't believe what he's seeing on TV. He can't even believe it. Nothing makes sense right now.

Even though Pat and Amanda broke up almost a month ago at this point, Jon is watching Amanda kiss Patrick at the NHL Awards  _live_ on his television screen. He can't wrap his head around how this is happening. Unless he was dreaming, he remembers sitting down at the table having the conversation with Lindsey about their breakup. It happened. Patrick never talked to him about it, because they're currently not on talking terms.

Jon doesn't know what he's feeling. It's a mix between anger, annoyance, and somehow hurt and betrayal as Pat accepts Amanda's kiss and goes up on the stage to accept the Hart Trophy. Jon knew he was going to get it. None of this should feel like a surprise to him. It somehow is.

He doesn't pay attention to what Pat is saying, and who he's thanking. But when he thanks Amanda, he stops before he says it. Jon leans in closer as quickly as possible.

"And, uh," Patrick pauses. Jon notices. He doesn't think anyone else will, but  _he_ does. "And my girlfriend." Jon doesn't know what he says after that. He doesn't care. All he knows is that Amanda broke up with Patrick, but they're still somehow together. It's not clicking in his head.

He stares at the TV. Lindsey's out with friends for one of their birthdays. He doesn't know which friend. He really doesn't care either.  _Shit_.

Jonny dials a number he hasn't called in some time, but somehow remembers. It only takes one ring.

"Jon, why are you calling me?" Sharpy groans. "It's been a terrible fucking day."

"Well how am I supposed to know that, dumbass?" Jonny asks. Sharpy gives a callous laugh.

"True. Anyway, how's it hanging?" Jonny sighs. How the fuck is he going to do this?

"It's alright. Just watching the NHL Awards right now," he says.

"Same, same. Give Peeksy my congratulations," Sharpy says.

This conversation is really not off to a great start.

"I, uh," Jon tries, but Sharpy's cruel and smart and knows.

First, he sighs. "Let me guess. You two aren't talking right now?" Jonny doesn't answer. "Does it have anything to do with that new guy you got? What the fuck is his name-"

"Panarin. Artemi Panarin." Sharpy snaps his fingers on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, yeah! That guy. Anyway, is it him?"

Jonny shakes his head. "What?  _No_. Why would it be?"

Sharpy laughs. Again. If Jon was there, he would punch him in the face. "Because you're a jealousy machine, Taze. You always have been. You radiate jealousy whenever it comes to Patrick."

Jonny wants to fucking fight him. He can't believe he called him. "What the  _fuck_ are you-"

"Oh, Jonny. Don't start with me. Let's get real here. He's your best friend. He's supposed to be your liney. But Q is an ass and doesn't think that you two should ever be paired on a line together ever again. And you've been angry about it ever since it happened. And you're always jealous of who plays on his line now because he really should be on yours, and you can't get over it."

"You fucker, that's not-"

"Jonathan." Jonny stops. He knows to stop when Sharpy uses his full first name. "Stop. Now tell me why you called."

"Did you know Patrick is gay?" The question spills out of him without thinking about it first. Jon slaps a hand over his mouth and shuts his eyes. He can't  _believe_ he just said that. He just ruined everything. Now Sharpy is going to probably call Duncs or Seabs and tell them and they're going to tell someone on the team who's going to tell Pat and it's going to come full circle right back to Jonny and-

Jonny's rambling thoughts are cut off by Sharpy giggling. Why is he fucking  _giggling_? "Dude, what the hell is your problem?" Jonny asks, and not nicely. In fact, he makes a point to be very rude about it.

Sharpy's gasping for air now. Jon rolls his eyes. Patrick Sharp is immature as shit.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm really sorry. But - oh my god, holy fucking  _shit_ , I can't believe you just asked me that." Jonny doesn't get it.

"May I ask why?" Sharpy finally calms down and takes a few deep breaths. Jon just wants him to talk. Say something, so he doesn't have to sit here wondering how Sharpy knows Patrick is gay.

"Jon.  _Everyone_ knows Patrick Kane is gay."

Well shit.

"Really?" Jonny asks. He knows Sharpy is rolling his eyes.

"Dude, seriously? Pat hasn't exactly kept it in the closet. Why are you even asking me this?"

"You said you were watching the NHL Awards, right?"

"Right."

"Didn't you notice something a little off when Pat was giving his thanks?"

"What do you mean?"

Jon gets up. He can't be sitting down for this conversation. "Lindsey told me like a month ago that Amanda and Patrick broke up."

"And?"

"What do you mean, 'and'?" Jonny is getting a little annoyed right now. More annoyed than he was to begin with. Sharpy's not following. "They broke up, and Amanda  _kissed_ him. On live television. In front of hundreds of  _thousands_ of people, Sharpy."

Sharpy doesn't say anything for a minute. Jon sits there trying to figure out what he thinks Sharpy's thinking. "They're never really been together, Jon."

"What the hell do you mean they've never been together?" Jon practically screams. "They were together for  _five fucking years_ , Patrick. Five. Years. You can't possibly tell me that they haven't actually been together. They bought a goddamn apartment together, like, two years ago. He bought her a car. He bought her shoes. He bought her purses. He bought her everything."

"Just because Patrick's bought basically everything doesn't mean Amanda's actually gotten everything she's actually wanted."

Jonny knows exactly what Sharpy means by that. He understands what Sharpy's saying. But for some reason, Jon still asks why.

Sharpy pauses. "Kaner bought her all of that because he knew she couldn't ever buy him the one thing she wanted." Jonny cringes. "All Amanda ever wanted was for Pat to love her."

"He did though, Sharpy. He always told me how much he loved her."

"Tazer, you know better than that, c'mon."

And Jonny does know better. He just doesn't want to believe it. Actually, he doesn't know what to believe anymore. He feels like he's been lied to for so long.

"Patrick loved Amanda," Sharpy continues. Jonny knows he's serious because he's calling Pat by his full name. "But just because he loved her doesn't mean he was ever  _in_ love with her."

And Jonny's pretty sure he whimpers because he doesn't want to hear it. He  _can't_. But this is all the reason he called Sharpy, because he's always understood. He always got their relationship, even when neither Jonny nor Pat did. And even though he didn't need to hear it from someone else, he wanted to. He yearned for confirmation that this was all happening.

Sharpy realizes Jonny's not talking any time soon. "Jonny, listen to me. I don't know what's going on in your head. Did you know that Patrick was gay?"

Jonny wants to laugh. He wants to scream. He wants to cry. Why did Sharpy even question it? Of  _course_ Jonny knew Pat was gay. Out of all people who should know, it's him.

"Yes," Jonny murmurs. Sharpy exhales.

"That's what I figured." And what the-

"What the hell is  _that_ supposed to mean, Patrick Sharp?" And Jonny doesn't realize how mean he sounded in that moment. He just doesn't get why Sharpy said that. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Tazer, don't worry about it. I understand why you got mad. I shouldn't have worded it like that."

"Yeah, no shit, you dumbass." Both Jonny and Sharpy start cracking up at the same time. In a world where nothing seems normal lately, it feels good to share a laugh with Sharpy. It feels natural. "Anyway, what do you mean by that?"

"I know you're all sorts of confused right now, Tazer. Trust me. You're not the only one. But give me a chance to explain."

Finally, Jonny thinks. Because he's so tired of being confused. It's overwhelming him.

"Alright, yeah. Go ahead."

Jonny doesn't know how long he waits for Sharpy to start talking. It seems like minutes, hours, days even before he can even get a word out of his mouth. Jonny has no idea what's coming. But he also sort of does. Everything is a blur right now, and he's not even drunk. Like, at all. He hasn't had a drink in two weeks.

Maybe that's the problem.

"Patrick told me he was gay a long time ago." Jonny wonders how long, but he doesn't ask. "And I think I knew before that. When Patrick met Amanda, he was so scared. It was weird. Their relationship was strange when they started talking. It always seemed like he liked her, but he knew he didn't. I knew he didn't, but I couldn't spare Amanda heart break. And I tried, Jonny, I tried _so_ hard to get Kaner to tell her that he wasn't into her. Not in that way. But he wouldn't move. Wouldn't budge. He wanted her around. Loved having her around. She's such a fucking sweetheart, and Pat's such an _asshole_. He knew she couldn't just be friends. He knew she was in love with him before she did. And after a while, I told him he could either leave her be or date her." 

Jonny wants to throw up. He runs to the bathroom while Sharpy keeps talking, just in case.

"So obviously, he chose the latter. And after the first few months, he didn't know what to do with himself. He needed Amanda in his life. And they fucked," Jonny cringes. He can feel the bile rising in his throat. "And he just freaked out, because she was so into it. She told him she  _loved_ him the first time, Jonny. Do you get that?"

He wants to say no. He wants to say yes. He doesn't say a word. Instead, Jon hangs himself over the toilet, trying to breathe properly.

"I told Kaner he had to end it. There was no way he was going to survive like this. But he wouldn't listen to me, the goddamn moron. He kept dating her. Kept fucking her. And she kept falling in more and more in love with him. And everything just went south from there."

Jonny tries to accept it, but he can't. There's no way. It's all wrong. This is all wrong. He needs to say something, because him and Sharpy are just sitting in silence right now.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Jonny's voice is so small, he's not sure it even exists. 

Sharpy groans. "God, Tazer, you really don't understand, do you?" he asks with displeasure radiating through the phone. Jonny does understand. But he really,  _really_ doesn't want to.

"No," Jon says. "I don't understand. But instead of being a dick about it, how about you just tell me, you fucking ass."

"Alright, Jesus Christ." Jonny thinks Sharpy just threw something across the room. Maybe a TV remote, maybe a picture. He has no idea. But he knows Sharpy's pissed, and he kind of has every right to be. "It's never been real, Jon.  _Ever._ Amanda sort of always knew it, and she kind of thought she could change it. But she couldn't. She will never be able to. And the past year, Patrick hasn't exactly been subtle with all of this, either." Sharpy pauses.

"Dammit, Sharpy, what do you  _mean_?" Jon whispers.

"Fuck, Tazer," and now Sharpy sounds like he's about to cry. "He told Amanda, like, last year that he was gay." Shit. "And you know what she said?" It's a lingering question. It takes a few seconds, but Jonny realizes that he's supposed to question Sharpy's question. This is all sorts of messed up.

"What did she say?"

"'I know'." And Jonny starts the cry, his eyes spilling out all of the tears he didn't know he was holding back. He drops his head to the edge of the toilet and bawls. The tears pour down his face and start to seep into his shirt. He needs to get it together. He can't. Sharpy starts to talk again. "Jonny. Jon.  _Jonathan._ Please stop crying," and now Sharpy's crying. And this is a fucking disaster.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jon repeats over and over again, and he thinks he says sorry about fifty times. Sharpy's telling him to stop, to shush, to shut up, then to shut the  _fuck_ up, and Jonny does.

"Jon, seriously. Please stop crying," Sharpy says, sniffling. Jonny wants to chirp him that he's crying, too, but he knows that now is not the time for that. "Amanda's known for a long time. And she's put up with it. And I think she's finally had enough."

"But why is she still fucking  _with_ him?" Jonny asks. "Why is she putting up with it after all these years?"

"Why have  _you_ put up with him after all these years, Jonathan?" Sharpy challenges. Jon is stunned. Not at the question, but that it was asked. Because Sharpy is right. And Jon doesn't have a damn clue how he should answer. "I know he's supposed to be your best friend, but he treated you like shit. For years. And you let it happen."

Jon gulps. Someone has finally said something. He never expected it to occur. It has. And now what does he do with it?

"Fuck, Sharpy," Jon eventually says, finding his voice. "I don't fucking know. What do I do?" His voice is minuscule. He sounds like a child. Maybe he is one.

"Maybe you should put him in his place," Sharpy replies. And Jon has no right. They haven't talked since last summer.

"I can't do that," Jon tells him.

"Jesus, how long has is been since you two had an actual conversation?"

Jonny sighs. "Almost a year." He cringes. "If we want to be exact, it's been 347 days." Dear Lord, how does he freaking  _know_ how long it's been?

"Goddamn it, you two are a fucking pile of dog shit, I  _swear_ ," and Jonny laughs through the sniffles, and hiccups in between breaths. Sharpy laughs a little, too.

"Yeah, we are, aren't we?" He lets out a breath. Maybe Jon's asking all of these questions because he's wondering why he made the same exact mistake that Amanda did. Maybe he's questioning his relationship with Patrick and everything that came with it. He was there for Patrick through everything: the Madison thing, the alcoholism rumors, Pat's depression, his family issues, and so much more. But Patrick never attempted to change, and  _that_ was Jonny's problem. Not all of the shit he went through, but that he just let it dust off of his shoulder like it meant nothing, when it actually meant everything.

Jon knows Stan and PR and Brisson have been working their asses off to get Pat back on track. They always informed him that it was going to be alright, mostly when it all wasn't. And Pat went through hell and back to try and piece the puzzle back together, but no one could ever put the right pieces in it's designated spot. And now Patrick's more fucked up than ever, possibly all because of Jonny.

 _Fuck_.

"I royally fucked up, Sharpy," Jonny admits. Sharpy snickers.

"This isn't the first time, Taze." Jonny should be agitated with that remark, but it's the God's honest truth.

"Fuck off, man. I really fucked up. How do I fix this?" Jonny doesn't get that Sharpy has no clue what he's referring to, but because Sharpy is a good man with a good heart, he goes along with it.

"I don't know what you're asking me to help you fix, but I can tell you this: letting Patrick fall deeper down this hole he's dug himself isn't going to help the situation. If you let him know that no one's going to put up with his shit anymore, he's going to get it. The one thing Kaner has always craved was someone telling him he can't do it so he can prove them wrong. No one's done that. They keep babying him and saying it's all going to work out in the end, and Patrick knows it can. He won't do anything about it because he's not being challenged. And we all know Kaner's up for a challenge."

And crap, Sharpy's right. Well, he's basically always right, but if Jonny told him that, Sharpy would never let him live that confession down. Why hadn't Jonny thought about this before.

"I hate you for being right," Jonny says instead of thanking him. Sharpy chuckles, and Jon rolls his eyes, but he's chuckling, too.

"You don't. You miss me." And Jon does, is the thing. Sharpy always knows how to piece shit back together. He wonders how he's doing with Benn and Seguin down in Dallas, who aren't any less of a mess than Jonny and Patrick are.

"I do," Jon admits. "And I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner. Everything's been a mess."

"Yeah, I can see that. But it's okay, because you're the only one who's called me since I got traded."

"Fuck, really?" Jon's surprised. Stunned, even. He would've at least thought Duncs or Seabs would hit Sharpy up, talking about their relationships and Sharpy and Seabs' kids in shit.

"Yeah, man. Management fucked me over," Sharpy says. "It's not all their fault, though. I was kind of a dick to them." Jonny hasn't got a clue of how that who debacle happened, and he doesn't want to ask. It might bother Sharpy.

"We all miss you though. Even if nobody has said it out loud, we're all thinking it." It's the truth. The team is still good, but the atmosphere isn't the same without Patrick Sharp: Chicago's Most Beautiful Man.

Sharpy lets out a bitter laugh. "I'm glad I could help you, though. I have a feeling I'm one of the few people who actually knows what's going on with Kaner."

Jonny wants to say that he knows exactly what's going on, too. He refuses to.

"Probably. You two always had a special bond."

"He was like my younger brother," Sharpy replies. "And even with everything he's done, he's still a great friend. He just has a habit of making dumbass decisions. It's not completely his problem."

"It's not," Jonny mutters. He lifts his head off the edge of the toilet, finally, and scoots back so he can lean against the closet door. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

"Tazer?" Sharpy asks.

"Mhmm?"

"Don't not call me, please." Jonny sighs.

"I won't. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. And call Patrick, too. Or, at least try and talk to him. I think you're the only one who can help him at this point."

Jonny nods. Doesn't reply. He can't find the words.

"Even though he's fucked up a lot," Sharpy starts, "I still love him with all of my heart." Jonny winces. He bites his lower lip so hard it starts to bleed. He doesn't reply, so Sharpy gives a short goodbye, and hangs up the phone.

 _Me too_ , Jonny thinks.  _Me too_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I wrote my first chapter! You guys can find me on Tumblr (pattykane).
> 
> When Jonny flashes back during the bar scene, he's referring to the rape scandal. If you don't support Patrick Kane in this situation, please do not leave nasty comments. I am one of the people who does believe he is innocent, but that doesn't mean you have to right to tell me I'm supporting a rapist. Try your best not to leave crude comments, or don't read the story if you don't agree with me. I would greatly appreciate it.
> 
> LET'S GET EXCITED!


	2. Chapter 2

Jon sulks around the next few weeks. He's supposed to be in Winnipeg right now, helping David pick out a new house in the suburbs. But when he didn't catch his flight, purposely, his mother called him.

'Jonathan,' she greeted him, a tone of utter exasperation laced in her usually soothing voice. Jon not only felt like he let his brother down, but that he let her down, too. 'David's been waiting for you. Where are you?'

'I can't come home, Maman,' Jon replied, in French. 'There's some things I have to settle first.'

Andrée sighed. 'Is this about Patrick?' And Jon cursed under his breath. His mother is the worst. And the best.

'Kind of. I messed up, and I have to fix it.' Andrée didn't answer. Jon bit his lower lip and closed his eyes. He knew she was not only upset with him, but disappointed, as well. 'I'll come up at some point and help David find a house, I promise. But I can't do it right now.'

Jon has never been one to make promises he knows he can't keep, but he did it then. And out of all people he lied to, it had to be his mother, goddamn it. Jon is a piece of shit.

'Alright, sweetheart,' she responds. 'Just let me know when you're coming up. Don't let it be a surprise.'

'I won't. I'll call you soon.'

'Love you, Jonathan. I know you wouldn't do this if it wasn't important, so mend back together whatever came undone,' and his mother hangs up the phone.

It's eight days later, and Jon hasn't called back. He can't talk to his mother when she knows something is up, because then she tries to give advice and help out and it makes Jon feel worthless and horrendous and everything in between. He doesn't converse with anyone. He told himself not to because somehow, something will get in the way of what he needs to do, and that won't happen.

So here he is, standing in front of Patrick's apartment door, shaking furiously. Word went around that Pat was going to stay in Chicago for the summer. Reports went around the city, claiming he's here for AA meetings, which is just totally fraudulent. Others claim he's planning on proposing to Amanda, which is probably the biggest myth out of all of them. Then Duncs texted him,  _just letting you know kaner's staying for the summer. he wants to talk to you._ And Duncs is a truth teller unlike anyone Jon's ever met. That's sarcasm, but something in the message made Jon think that it might be the actual reason for the lack of Pat's departure from Chicago.

Jon's been standing out here - pacing back and forth down the hallway, sometimes stopping in front of Pat's door, other times leaning against the wall and closing his eyes, thinking,  _why the fuck am I here?_ \- for half an hour now. Maybe even forty-five minutes. He lost track of time a while ago, probably since the moment he arrived.

And now he's just here, and he doesn't grasp what's occurring, but someone's opening the door in front of him while Jonny looks at the floor. He recognizes the bare feet that come into his view, toes pointed in a few different directions because he's broken them so many times. Jonny remembers when Pat broke all five toes on his right foot at once after slamming them into the boards by accident when he went to go to the locker room. He had to carry Patrick to where the team doctor was, and Pat just had his entire foot wrapped so he could play that night. And of course, being the little shit he is, he had five points: two of them being goals.

Jon's still looking down at Patrick's feet. He feels paralyzed. His neck won't move so he can glance at Patrick's face - look into those baby blue eyes, skim over the freckles on his petite, but sharp nose, laugh at his unruly curls, flicker his eyes over those plush lips, so soft and pink - dammit, he needs to  _stop_ thinking about his best friend's mouth. That era is over and done with. No more of that, although he somewhat wishes for more of that.

"Jonathan," Patrick says, voice low and rough, and  _fuck_ , Jonny was not prepared for that at all. That being him speaking, but also that being how sexy his voice sounded. And Jonny, you have a girlfriend, so shut your damn brain off. "Jonny." There's that fucking voice again, and now Jonny decides it's okay to look up, not under his own power, and he whips his neck back so fast it cracks.

 _Shit_. This is not how he needed to start. But Jonny's a fuck up, more so than he will ever admit. "God-fucking-damn it," he bites out, cringing and slapping a hand to the back of his neck. All he can feel is pain radiating through his spine from his neck to his lower back. There's so much pain - sharp,  _sharp_ pain - that he doesn't catch Patrick coming closer and closer to him. Then he places his hand over the hand Jonny has on his neck, and Jonny shivers. Just a small touch, more like a caress, has his insides all shaken up. But he declares that's from the pain, not Patrick's rough hand placed softly over his own.

"Jon, are you alright?" Patrick asks quietly, like he's trying to keep his voice down so no one hears him. Jon didn't notice anyone else in the hallway before. Nobody walked by as he stood outside Patrick's door for basically an hour. Jon slowly opens his eyes, and peers down as much as he can at Patrick, who's already gazing up at him, eyes careful and full of worry. Jon twitches his nose, moved his head around a little, and cautiously tilts his head down back to it's normal position. Patrick is still staring at him, not letting go of Jon's eyes. "Do you need an ice pack or something?"

And Jon just says, "Sure," so he can get inside of Patrick's apartment without a feud breaking out. Patrick nods and steps back so he's still holding the door open for Jon. He's still looking at him, an expression he can't quite pick out settling in on Pat's face. He ignores it, breaks eye contact, and makes his way into the apartment as fast as possible.

Even though Jon hasn't been here in more than a year, the setup of Patrick's place hasn't changed. The couch is still situated slightly off-center in the middle of the living room. He remembers him and Pat arguing about the placement of it for, like, two hours when he bought it. The TV is still hanging above the gas fireplace, which Patrick has probably turned on all of once. His kitchen is still as neat as it always is. It's hilarious because Patrick's one of the messiest people Jon knows. He always figured the cleanliness was partially due to the fact that Amanda lived here, too. And that gets Jon wondering if she still does.

Jon realizes Pat probably doesn't think Jon knows that they aren't together anymore. So when he sits down on Pat's couch as he bring him over a small ice pack wrapped in paper towel, and asks, "Where's Amanda?" like he doesn't know, he's honestly surprised by Patrick's response.

"She's not here, and you know that," Patrick says harshly. And yeah, Jon kind of deserves that. He doesn't say anything else.

Jon leans his head back against the back of the couch, placing the ice pack between it and his neck. The coldness is soothing in more ways than one. He's been hot ever since he got to the apartment building. "Can you turn the air down?" Jon asks. "It's hot as hell in here."

Patrick doesn't budge. Jon wants to slap him. "It's sixty-five degrees in here, how can you possibly be hot?" Jon wants to have a sarcastic comeback, but decides against it. They don't do that anymore. There's a lot of things they don't do anymore.

He's sweating profusely. He  _needs_ the air to be turned down. "Just a couple of degrees, please. I'm dying." Patrick groans, but complies. He stalks over to the monitor, turns it down to sixty, and comes back. He perches himself closer to Jon this time. "Thanks."

"How's your neck?" Patrick questions, eyeballing Jon. "You whipped it back pretty hard." And Jon thinks this is the most he and Patrick have communicated since last summer. It's a little awkward, but nice.

Jon shrugs. "It's alright. A little sore." His neck is fine. He just wants Patrick's sympathy.

"Do you need Advil? Aleve? Oxy?" And Jon lets out a deep laugh. He was not expecting Patrick to crack a damn  _joke_. But Pat's always been like that - avoiding problems. And he knows what him and Jon are going through is a problem.

"Nah, I'm good," Jon answers. "But if you have some, I might hit you up on that offer later." It's Patrick's turn to laugh, but it's poignant. Jon's smile goes flat. He cranes his neck to look at Patrick, who's sitting with his legs crossed and trying his best not to bump his knee against Jon's leg. He shifts his leg so it brushes Patrick's knee. Patrick jerks a little bit, and looks at Jon through his lashes. He's playing with the seam of his sweatpants, so his head's tilted down. And Jon flashes back to the first time Patrick looked at him like that when they were rookies.

It was just a sim game in training camp, but Jon noticed Patrick was upset. And he basically read his mind, and confirmed Patrick thought he played like shit.

'I was so fucking bad, Jonny,' Pat had said, with tears glistened in his eyes. 'My passes were all over the place, my shots never hit the net. I whiffed on like, six or seven slappers at one point. And I should've buried that backhand pass from you short side, but I didn't even know it was coming. My vision was all over the place. I was skating in circles. I had no idea what I was doing.' And Pat started crying and Jon couldn't console him as much as he wanted to. He wrapped an arm around Patrick's shoulders while Pat sobbed into the crook of Jon's arm. He didn't have notion of what he could do. So he sat there and listened to Pat pour his feelings out about how horrible he played. It didn't matter. The game meant nothing. But hockey was everything to Patrick -  _is_ everything to Patrick. So even if he missed the net while fooling around with between the leg backhand shots, he would still be unsettled with his hockey.

Pat finally took a breath, only to let out a hiccup. He clutched Jon's Under Armour shirt with both fists, and ragged Jon closer to him. Jon tightened his grip around Patrick's shoulder, clutched his bicep with his right hand. Patrick dug his forehead into Jon's shoulder blade, and he didn't tell Pat he was hurting him. He just let it happen. He let a lot of things Patrick did to hurt him happen.

'Pat, it's alright. It was just a sim game,' Jon said, which only made Patrick cry even harder into Jon's arms. That was the first time Jon fucked up with Patrick.

'B-but it's not  _just_ a game. I'm fucking terrible, Jonny. I don't even know why the team picked me. I'm just a small kid on the ice. I'm puny. Anybody can take advantage of me because I'm tiny as hell. And - and I don't deserve to be here-'

And that's where Jon had to stop him. Because he could not sit here with his arm wrapped around Patrick and listen to him say he doesn't deserve to be here at training camp. That he shouldn't have been picked first overall, because if anything is a load of bull crap, it's the narrative that Patrick fucking Kane shouldn't be playing hockey.

'Patrick.' Jon's voice was stern as hell. Patrick whimpered a bit, but stopped crying for a moment. Jon rubbed circles on his back while he let him know that of  _course_ Patrick deserved to be here. Why the fuck would he think otherwise? He was the first overall pick of the 2007 NHL Draft for a goddamn reason. 'Pat, you're amazing at hockey. You've got vision like no one else. Your hands are incredible. Jesus, you can probably dangle the pants off of Pronger if you really wanted to. You can deke any goalie out of position. I've seen you do it before. So many times. And you're so fast, you're like a runningback sometimes on the ice.' Pat laughed a little. Jon could feel him smile against his shirt. He wished there wasn't any fabric between the two of them so he could've felt the softness of Patrick's skin against his. 'And if anyone tells you differently, I'm going to beat the shit out of them for being a fucking asshole to you.'

Patrick rubbed his face against Jon's shoulder real quick, then perked his head up. He looked at Jon through those long eyelashes. And  _Jesus_ , those fucking eyes. Jon could stare into those light blue orbs all day if he so desired. He sniffled, wrinkled his nose, and licked his lips. Jon tried his best not to stare. 'Really?'

Jon smiled softly, and moved his hand up so his fingers threaded through Patrick's curls turned helmet hair. They still felt soft and full against the palm of his head. Jon never wanted to let go.

'Really.'

But the way Patrick is looking at him right now makes Jon's stomach queazy. It's not full of love and admiration, like all of the other times. Patrick seems...scared. Like Jon is going to punch him right in the heart, where it'll hurt the most. Not physically, but emotionally. Patrick hasn't looked at Jonny like that in...well, never, actually. And Jon's not going to lie, he feels horrible that Patrick's this uneasy around him. There was a time when it used to be normal. There's so normal, anymore. Hasn't been for a long time.

"Can I ask why you're here?" Patrick questions, and Jonny knows this was going to pop up at some point. And he's anxious as fuck to have this discussion right now.

Jonny gulps. He twists his mouth and looks down. "Um," he tries. That's not going to cut it. He grasps the fact that he's going to have to be more direct than that. "Uh," he attempts. Pat chuckles. Jonny's stomach fills with butterflies. No, he should  _not_ be getting butterflies. What is he, sixteen?

Patrick scoffs and shakes his head. "Jesus, Jonny, spit it the fuck out already." And Jonny's stunned. His eyes widen as he lifts his head to glimpse at Patrick. His eyebrows are furrowed, mouth set in a straight line, face contorted a bit. Damn it, can Jonny fuck up any more? Patrick slams his hand down on the couch, like he's trying to force his anger into it. He doesn't want to hold it in any longer. Jonny doesn't want to, either. "Holy fuck, you think you can just come here after all that shit you said to me last summer and just  _apologize?_ For fuck's sake, it doesn't go like that. Not everything goes your damn way, Jonathan Toews." And Patrick's  _furious_. His face is morphing in ways Jonny's never seen, and his skin is burning. All because of Jonny. This is all his wrongdoing.

He doesn't mean for his eyes to water. He really doesn't. The last thing Jonny could desire right now is crying. But the tears are flowing, but Patrick has already jumped from his seat on the couch to pace around the living room, muttering expletives to himself, and the ground, apparently. Jonny's face falls into his hands as he cries and cries and cries, and there's been  _way_ too much of that as of late. But Patrick's already detected that Jonny's upset, and immediately sits back down on the couch, pressing his warm thigh against Jonny's, which he really does not need right now, so he surges backwards. 

"No.  _No._ You don't get to fucking do that, Patrick," Jonny argues, because Patrick really doesn't have a right. At all. "No fucking way. I'm so fucking over this bullshit." Patrick's face drops when he meet Jonny's gaze. He doesn't give a flying shit anymore.

"Jonny, I-"

"Fucking  _listen_ to me, Patrick," Jonny blares, and now Patrick's sitting ramrod straight, eyes scanning over Jonny's face, looking for some sort of display of emotion. Jonny's over that emotion bullshit, as he wipes tears away from his cheeks. He's such a goddamn hypocrite. "What I said to you that day was wrong," Jonny says, a lot more calm than before. "It was fucked up. Completely and totally. But I'm not taking it back. What's said is written in stone. You want to know the reason I came here? I came to your apartment to tell you that you need to get your shit together. Your life is a fucking mess. You're falling apart at the seams, and everyone is trying to help you, and console you, and tell you that everything will be all right. And that's some bull shit, and you know it. Especially since you're not taking them seriously." Jonny shakes his head, still staring right into Patrick's frightened blue eyes. "It's not fair for you to not do anything to help yourself, when everyone is trying to back you up. That's absolutely, unquestionably preposterous. And the funniest part? You know it, too." Jonny lets out a malicious snicker. This is really getting to him.

He breathes for a second, looks away from Patrick, then back at him. His face is flat. There's no sentiment. But his eyes tell the whole story. Patrick's enraged, somber, bothered, and startled all combined into one. It's freaky, Jonny thinks.

No one's talking. Neither of them have spoke a word in about five minutes or so. Jonny opens his mouth to convey a response to his own statement, but Patrick jumps the gun.

"Is that why you said what you said to me?" Patrick inquires. His voice is faint. Monotone, but laced with sorrow. Jonny's heart jumps into his throat. He can't breathe. "Is that why you questioned if I actually did it?" And, Jesus, Patrick's not getting it. He doesn't understand.

Jonny waves his hand at Patrick to dismiss him. "No, no, no. Of course not, Patrick." Jonny groans and tilts his head up to the ceiling. His neck cracks a bit again. How wonderful. "God, I really didn't mean to say that, Pat. You've got to understand that. I was - shit - I was furious and hurt and annoyed that you didn't even talk to me about it. It made the news five days before I called you, don't you get that? You should've fucking called me, Patrick. Then we could've talked about it. Discussed why the press is full of fucking idiots. Why that girl is fucking nuts. Why you were not in the wrong. But instead, you don't talk to me. You ignore me. And I have to find out for  _myself?_ Fuck, Pat, how did you think I was going to react?"

Patrick's bottom lip is quivering uncontrollably. Jonny doesn't know if he should reach out and touch him or stay away. He opts for the latter, even though his body urges him to console Pat.

"I - I don't know," Patrick stutters. So does Jonny's heart. "I guess..." Patrick drags on, and closes his eyes. Huffs out a breath, keeps going. "I guess I panicked. When it came out, when the whole story dropped, I had no idea. My mom called me. She didn't even let me talk. Fuck, Jon, all she said was, 'I can't believe what I'm reading, Patrick Timothy Kane. You're supposed to be revamping your imagine, not blurring it even more. Let me know when you get your shit together'. And I didn't know what to say or do, and all I wanted to do was call you, but I couldn't. And then you called, and said the same thing my own mother said, and I basically couldn't take it anymore. How do you think it feels when both your mother  _and_ your best friend tell you to get your life back on track?"

How does Jonny respond? He attempts to think of an answer that'll make sense to the both of them, but Patrick just continues. "It made me feel worthless. I laid on my bed for days and just stared at nothing. Literally nothing. I couldn't cry. There were no tears. They were gone at that point. Jon, I've dug a hole so deep I don't know how to climb out of it. I'm fucking  _everything_ up. My whole life is fucked up."

And, no, Jonny can't let him think that. "Patrick, you can fix this. If you would've just  _talked_ to me-"

"How the fuck was I supposed to talk to you, Jonny?" Patrick screams. "Please inform me. Because last time I checked, you fucking told me to get my shit together, and then we could talk. And I don't have my fucking shit together, but you want to talk?" Patrick laughs. It's bitter. "Shit, man, now you want to talk? Well, guess what, Jonny? Just because  _you_ decided that  _you_ want to talk doesn't mean I want to."

"Patrick, I'm sorry-"

"Don't you fucking  _dare_ say you're sorry, Jonathan Toews." Alright, now Jonny's the one who's scared shitless. Patrick is trembling, shaking, as he points a finger at Jonny. He can't keep it straight. "Absolutely not. I will not tolerate that from you. I'll let you know when I want to talk. Until then, we're not talking." Patrick stands up, and heads down the hall. Jonny thinks he's going towards the bathroom. But Patrick stalls, and slowly cranes his neck towards Jonny, who's still staring at him as he walks away. Jonny feels like he's walking away from everything. "You can let yourself out."

And then Patrick walks away.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

Jonny doesn't let himself out. Instead, he's so exhausted from the argument that he passes out cold on Patrick's couch. He doesn't mean to, really. He just didn't feel like getting up. He was so wiped out at that point. He's been tired for a long time now. And it's funny that sleeping on Pat's couch is the best sleep he's gotten in  _weeks_. 

He's awake now due to rapid knocking on Patrick's apartment door. And whoever the person is on the other side is abusing the doorbell, too. Jonny groans and slips off the coach, stalking over to the front door. Jonny wonders how Patrick didn't hear it. He must be asleep, like Jonny was just a few moments ago. Well, he was wrong.

Because standing in front of him is none other than Patrick. Jon would normally make a sardonic comment on the fact that Patrick forgot his key. But he can't. Not when Patrick's face is swollen on the left side, bruises starting to form right under his eyes and on the edge of his chin. Jon scans over the rest of his body, and  _fuck._ Patrick is a mess.

His white shirt is ripped, and Jon can see his marks on top of his pale skin. They're a nasty color - almost burgundy. Patrick's arms red, from what looks like harsh slaps, up and down. His sweatpants are no longer there. Somehow they disappeared in whatever altercation Patrick just endured. His legs are probably the worse out of his entire body. Contusions are forming all over his body. Then Jonny looks up, and his eyes tell the whole story.

Jonny's heart seizes up in his chest. Patrick's eyes are dilated severely. They're shaking. Well, his whole body is trembling - but his eyes can't seem to fixate just on Jonny's eyes. They're all over his entire face, like he's attempting locate Jonny's thoughts. But Jonny can't even seem to get his own thoughts under control. They're everywhere at once.

"Patrick," Jonny finally says, voice breaking. Like his heart.

Patrick collapses into Jonny, grasping on to his waist. He's squeezing so hard, Jonny think his hands might fall off. His breathing is uneven, and Jon thinks it would be best to find some help.

"Pat." He takes Patrick's wrists and rubs his thumbs on each wrist bone. "Patrick, I think we need to go to the hospital." He lets out a choky sob.

"No, Jonny," Patrick pleads. "Please, no. It - it was all a mistake. I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have gone-"

"Where did you go?" Jonny questions, pulling Patrick back a little so he can look him straight in the eye. "Where have you been?"

Patrick shakes his head. "I can't." Jonny doesn't know what he means. He doesn't understand if Patrick can't specifically tell  _him_ , or if he really can't say anything at all. But Jonny's bothered by the issue that Patrick might be in serious trouble. Not him, specifically, but maybe the situation.

"Okay," Jonny says. He doesn't want to try and make Patrick tell him something he's not comfortable saying. He lets it go. "But we still need to take you somewhere. You're all fucked up."

Patrick snorts. "Like I haven't been fucked up my entire life." And Jonny can't get into that now. The last thing he wants is for them to argue  _again,_ even though it wasn't exactly an argument. It was more of them just spewing words at each other, like the truth wasn't dug somewhere deep inside both of them. Either way, it didn't bode so well last time. Jonny decides he just used a poor choice of words.

"You still need to go," Jonny presses. "Let's get you fixed up." He means that in more ways than one.

He watches Patrick bite his bottom lip while he tries to make a decision. Jonny looks on. He can't inspect every little thing about him. Not now. Not when Patrick's this vulnerable.

"Alright, let's go."

They take Jonny's car, because Patrick is in no state of mind to drive. It's a short ride, anyway. The hospital is basically around the corner. If they wanted to, they could've walked. But Patrick is mashed up, and Jonny doesn't think he could withstand the silence. During the seven minute drive, Jonny's got his hand on the gear stick, clutching it like he normally does. And he tenses when Patrick lightly places his hand over Jonny's, like he did earlier when Jonny whipped back his head. He wants to pull it back.  _Needs_ to pull it back. He can't let Patrick touch him like this, after everything that's happened. But he allows him to when he shouldn't.

But right now, Patrick needs someone. And the only person he's really been able to communicate with after him and Jonny ended contact is Amanda. And now she's not even really there anymore. Patrick has figured out that Jonny knows about Amanda. Jonny wonders if Patrick thinks Jonny knows everything that's materialized recently. He really wants to find out how Patrick knows. Probably Sharpy, somehow, but Jonny shakes that thought out of his head. Sharpy's been that way with Patrick the entire time they've all known each other. There's nothing he can do about it.

Once they pull into the parking garage at the hospital, Jonny parks the car and turns off the ignition. But neither of them move. Instead, they Jonny's staring at Patrick's profile while he glares straight ahead. One of the things Jonny loves most about Patrick is his profile. His features are razor-sharp from this angle: the cut of his jaw, the straight line of his nose turned up at the end, his long gray eyelashes, his thick, unruly eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his pouted lips, his jutted chin. His  _everything_. But he's been down this road before. It was a long, windy, never-ending road. He doesn't think he wants to travel there a second time.

Jonny swallows, opening his mouth to talk. Patrick beats him to it. "I was with a guy." And shit, Jonny should've figured that out. "I was with a guy. It's this guy I've been fooling around with for a little while now. And when we met, that's when Amanda was done with me. She didn't want to be in the constant pain of loving me, and me never being in love with her back. She knew it was impossible."

Patrick closes his eyes. Jonny's ridiculously still right now. He's frozen in place. Can't move. It may hurt him too much to move. "But I begged her to keep it up for a little bit longer. Just so we can figure out a way to make it public that we broke up. Because it would be awful, mostly for her, for the press to find out that our five-year relationship came to an end because I'm attracted to guys."

Fuck. Jonny can't fathom the notion of Patrick having to come out that way. And he technically just came out to Jonny. But with words. He really came out to Jonny a  _long_ time ago.

Pat lifts his gaze, and moves his eyes so he's looking right at Jonny. "I shouldn't even say that I'm attracted to guys, plural." Jonny tenses up. "I mean, I have been in the past. But, not right now. And so Amanda agreed, and kissed me at NHL Awards. Then you called Sharpy," and there it is, "even though I think you knew what was occurring. And I was so overwhelmed with all that was going on, I went back to that guy, Shawn, and he wasn't there. And that's when I grasped that everyone disappeared. Everyone was gone." Patrick's eyes haven't left Jonny's, but he feels like Patrick is looking into his soul right now with the way he's communicating through them. " _You_ were gone."

The confession hits Jonny like a freight train. He sinks lower into his seat, slipping away from himself like he did with Patrick. "And then you came back, out of nowhere. And I was pissed beyond belief. I needed to let go of my anger in some way. So I thought going to Shawn would help, and instead he let his anger out on me. Told me I was a piece of shit. He watched the award show. He watched me kiss Amanda. He beat the fuck out of me, telling me I was a dirty, compulsive liar. And that no one would ever want me. No one wanted me in the past, no one wants me now, and surely nobody will want me in the future. And he's right. If I don't fix myself, I will never be wanted. I will never be loved. I will never be cared for. I will never be in a real relationship. I will never be with someone I love. I will never be anything."

Jonny's heart is breaking. It's all shattering to pieces.  _Patrick_ is crumbling right in front of him - has been for as long as Jonny's known him - and he's just comprehending it all right now. He feels like an asshole. He wants to grab Patrick's cheeks, close the gap until only an inch is separating their faces, and tell him he's worth it. He's always been worth it. He's always been wanted. He's always been loved. He's always been cared for. He's not a compulsive liar. He can be with someone he loves, if he just gets it all right. But he's gotten it wrong for so long, that he doesn't trust himself to resolve it all. Jonny can't find a way to inform him of that.

This isn't how it all used to be. Things were so different when they were younger. It was much less complicated than this. Ever since Patrick found Amanda, things have been as convoluted as they could be. Jonny was so  _angry_ at Patrick for finding a girl, that he wanted to one-up him and get himself a girl. It's something he didn't desire at all. He hasn't longed for a girl since elementary school, maybe. Even probably before then. But he was forevermore timid about someone figuring him out, that he chose girls over what he really wanted.  _Who_ he legitimately craved for as long as he can recall.

Right now, it seems like this is the first time Jonny's met Patrick. Like he's taking a stranger he's never faced before to the hospital after spotting him on the sidewalk in shambles. It's much different than the first occurrence, when Patrick stalked into the Junior Flyers locker room with those hideous flip flips, whacked-out hair, and toothy grin. He was the only one Jonny noticed in the locker room, and on the ice. But when Patrick took that first scan over the locker room, as everyone made small talk, introducing themselves to one another, Patrick's eyes landed on Jonny, all wide and sparkly and energetic. They softened, pupils enlarged and radiating happiness. Jonny doesn't think he's ever communicated with someone like this before. It was so new to him, so  _real._ He felt bubbly, started from his toes and ran into his brain. His brain took a picture of Patrick, and it's still in his mind since then.

Patrick has changed so much over the years. And looking at him now, he realizes he doesn't actually know who's sitting across from him. Of course it's Patrick Timothy Kane - the only best friend he's ever really had. The only person he's ever felt himself with. That's all vanished. He has the urge to recover it again. He wants to revive Patrick, bring him back to himself. He can't let him go again. He can't walk out of his life again. He doesn't think Patrick will ever forgive him for that, for Jonny being a complete and utter dick, but he can at least try. He  _needs_ to try.

"Jonny," Patrick speaks, voice distant. Jonny notices he's blanked out, but he hears it, even though it's so far away while Patrick is sitting right there. But Patrick has constantly been _right there_. Jonny's just never noticed. And it fucking _sucks_ that he didn't pay attention to this all before. They could've avoided all of this chaos that's been created because Jonny and Patrick (mostly Jonny) are fucking idiots who had no idea what they were doing. They  _still_ can't figure out what they're doing - what they yearn for. But by the gleam in Patrick's eyes, he thinks,  _we can fucking do this._ He hopes Patrick is thinking the same thing. If the expression he's giving Jonny now - softened gaze, bright red cheeks, corners of his lips tugged up into a small smile - he thinks Patrick is reading his mind. And Jonny finds Patrick again. "I'm ready to get my shit together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the second chapter is done, and not going to lie, it made me very emotional writing this. I cried a couple of times while putting it together. And this chapter may have not made any sense to some of you as to why I wrote this so early on, but it'll all make sense when it comes to the end (which won't be for a little while). Be patient with this, too. There's still a bunch of things that are going to happen.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr (pattykane) and thank you for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I am so sorry I haven't updated this story in basically a month. I have been swarmed with school work since the semester is drawing to a close. I've been so stressed out with a million and one things besides school, as well. It's just been a ridiculously crazy month, but I've been working on this chapter throughout the month. It's definitely not the best, and part of it is unexpected. It'll seem like it's rushed, but I promise it'll make sense soon.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading! Don't forget to follow me on tumblr (now buchplease), and enjoy the chapter!

Patrick has a moderate concussion, a broken rib, and multiple contusions spread over his body.

Jonny didn't expect anything less. Patrick was a mess when he came back to his apartment about a day ago. It feels like it was years.

Now, Patrick's parents have arrived in Chicago with Pat's sisters in tow. Jonny called them last night when Patrick was admitted to the emergency room, even though Pat kept insisting he would be fine if they didn't come. Jonny knows he hasn't had the easiest time with his family lately, but he also knows how much they all care about Patrick.

When Jonny dialed Donna's number, he was shaking. When was the last time he was this nervous when calling Patrick's mother? She's always been a second mother to Jonny. When Andrée didn't answer her own son's phone calls, he always found himself searching for Donna's number next. Their relationship was something he could never quite explain, and Patrick always seemed jealous of how close they got. But he also gleamed at the fact that his mother and his best friend got along so well. And then Donna and Andrée had a tight-knit friendship, and the whole group was close.

But things are different now. Patrick is slowly welcoming Jonny back into his life, and Donna knows Jonny fucked their whole relationship up last year. But Donna never held a grudge against Jonny, for some odd reason, when everything went down. Instead, she called Jonny and talked to him for over four hours about the whole situation, and promised she'd never repeat a word of the conversation to Patrick. And Jonny knows she's kept her promise all this time, because Patrick hasn't asked him one simple question.

Jonny is still waiting for that question to be asked. But he doesn't expect it to come any time soon.

He's toying with his phone in the waiting room when Donna and Pat Sr. trudge through the emergency room entrance. Their eyes flicker around the room before falling on Jonny. He catches Donna's gaze first. Her eyes are wide - startled. They're looking everywhere but Jonny's eyes, but as soon as he stands up from his chair, and Pat Sr. puts a hand on the small of his wife's back, she settles. Her gaze softens as Jonny paces towards her. And then he pauses when he's about three feet away. Looks from Pat Sr. to Donna, who lets out a sob and takes a couple of steps forward to throw her arms around Jonny.

The embrace is full of emotion - a combination of last night, and the last year. It's also possibly everything in between. Jonny reciprocates and wraps his arms around Donna's smaller figure, tugging her closer by her shoulders. He fully accepts her tears and uneasy breaths as she digs her head into his chest. Jonny shuts his eyes, forcing the tears back. Right now, this is as close as Jonny gets to be to Patrick - through his mother. It's kind of a harsh way to think about it, but Jonny doesn't care. What he does care about is Patrick, and his family, who is in front of him right now. Jonny lifts his head slightly to glance at Pat Sr., who just gives him a solemn nod.

Jonny wants to just cave in and let all of his feelings out. He wants to tell Pat's parents how much he's fucked up. How this is all of his fault. How he's as much of a mess as Patrick is. But Jonny doesn't talk. He doesn't ever talk about feelings, which is why everything's so messed up in the first place. If he had just admitted to Patrick six years ago what he was feeling, this wouldn't be happening. They wouldn't be involved in such disarray.

But shit happens, and Jonny knows that. He can't go back in time and do it all over again. He can't wish that the situation was something different than what it is. He can't lie to himself about everything that's happened. What's there to lie about? Why would he do that to himself, and to Patrick, and Patrick's family, and Jonny's family.

As he holds Donna close, Jonny reminisces of the one time he was hugging someone like he was hugging Donna Kane, and how much of a mess that day had been. Jonny had just gotten out of the hospital after his car accident, and to be frank, he was fucked: a concussion that would put him out of hockey for a long time. He hadn't detected that something about him was off. He couldn't look at light, was unable to focus, had constant headaches, and he  _still_ didn't figure out what was wrong with him. Maybe because he never talked to the team doctors, but also maybe because he didn't want to admit there was something wrong with him.

Jonny has never been the best when it comes to injuries. His inability to depict when he's hurt, and accept that he's injured is one of his major weaknesses. And Jonny was opening his eyes after taking a quick nap because he hadn't be able to sleep in  _days_ , due to the risk of going into a coma. And the expression on Patrick's face when Jonny woke up was unreadable. Jonny's eyes were half open, lids fluttering as he used all of his strength to stay awake.

'Pat?' Jonny asked softly. He didn't hear his voice, but apparently Patrick heard it, and he squeezed Jonny's right hand, which apparently he had been holding the entire time Jonny was asleep. He saw Pat give him a soft smile, barely showing his teeth. Patrick trembled, reaching forward with his free hand to cup Jonny's right cheek. Jonny leaned into the touch, and opened his eyes ever so slightly.

Patrick's bottom lip quivered as he leaned closer. 'Jonny,' Patrick whispered. And his voice was so sincere, so full of care, it caused Jonny to shiver with sadness. Tears prickled at the inner corners of his eyes. Patrick let out a shaky breath. 'You're such an idiot.'

Jonny laughed gently, smiling into Patrick's callous hand. 'Thanks. I know.' Patrick's grin widened, finally showing all of his perfect teeth. Jonny always loved Patrick's smile, but he was so hesitant to let it show in pictures. He always used it around Jonny though, which made Jonny feel blessed that he constantly got to witness the World's Most Beautiful Smile that was Patrick Kane's.

'Doc says you can go home today,' Patrick told Jonny. He bit his bottom lip gingerly. 'It's just a matter of whenever you want to get your lazy ass out of bed.' Jonny laughed again, this time a lot harder than he did before. Pain radiated through his head, but he didn't care. He was here - alive - with Patrick by his side, and that's all he could ever ask for.

Once the nurses came in to explain the discharge instructions, Jonny was able to leave the hospital after four days. Patrick held onto his hand the entire time Jonny was getting out of the uncomfortable hospital bed. It felt awkward in the first few moments - it was the first time Patrick had ever held Jonny's hand like this, fingers twined and grip tight. But right when Jonny got used to it, Patrick had to let go because Jonny had to get dressed in normal clothes.

'Uh...um...' Patrick stumbled over his words, amusing Jonny. He chuckled at Pat.

'Patrick, it's fine. You can stay here,' Jonny informed him. Pat sighed, looking down at the ground. 'I might actually need some help. I'm sore as fuck.'

And so Patrick helped Jonny dress in silence. No words were spoken between them as Jonny slid his boxers on underneath his hospital gown. He couldn't reach around the back to untie the garment, so Patrick did it for him at an unbearably slow rate. Once the tie was undone, Patrick slipped the gown off of Jonny's shoulders. It fell to the ground tenderly, and the cold air hit Jonny's back. He shivered, pretending it was from the breeze. But Patrick's hands on his shoulders weren't helping the situation. Jonny stepped forward out of Patrick's grip, and turned around to grab his sweatpants and shirt from the bed, but Patrick was insistent that Jonny wouldn't be leaning down to grab his apparel. So he held out Jonny's sweatpants for Jonny to step into. Jonny froze. He was staring at Patrick looking down at Jonny's navy pants, biting the inside of his cheek. Patrick looked up when he realized Jonny wasn't moving, and locked eyes with Jonny.

'We're not going to get out of here if you don't get a move on any time soon,' Patrick said sarcastically, expecting Jonny to laugh. But he didn't. Instead, he stared intensely into Pat's baby blue eyes, and lifted his right leg gradually until it was at a ninety-degree angle. As he stepped into the right hole of his sweatpants, he kept his gaze on Patrick. Neither of them shook the other one off the entire time Jonny got dressed. Patrick pullet the sweatpants up to Jonny's hips as soon as he got both legs clothed. He reached behind him to grab Jonny's white V-neck while Jonny held his arms out. They were on the verge of giving out by the time Patrick slipped Jonny's arms through the holes of the shirt.

When Patrick couldn't see Jonny's face, Jonny blinked as slowly as he possibly could. He didn't want to close his eyes all the way - didn't want to rid of the feeling inside when Pat was looking at him with emotion. Patrick pulled the shirt over Jonny's head, and paused when they fixed their eyes on each other again. Patrick grinned, and moved his hands down Jonny's chest to grab the bottom of the white shirt and pull it down Jonny's torso. Jonny shook as Patrick's hands hovered over the fabric, barely grazing the cotton. Jonny sensed Patrick's fingertips through the clothing, and  _craved._ He ached for Patrick to touch him, even if it was just a clasp of the bicep. He needed Patrick's warm skin on his. Jonny had no idea what this feeling was, but it was electrifying every limb of Jonny's body.

Once the shirt was pulled down to Jonny's hips, he released a breath, still staring into Patrick's eyes. Jonny's cheeks were burning. His whole body was burning. Jonny was almost positive Patrick knew how uneasy Jonny was feeling - with his headache and Patrick's hands on him.

'Taze,' Patrick murmured. Jonny sighed, but it didn't relieve any of the anxiety that built up inside of him. 'Let's go get you out of here.' Patrick tilted his head towards the door, and signaled for them to leave. But Jonny didn't want to. He wanted to stay here, under all of Patrick's attention, for as long as he possibly could. Patrick's hand was wrapped around Jonny's wrist, tugging on him. Jonny didn't budge. Instead, he wrenched his hand around Patrick's wrist so they were grasping each other's forearms, and pulled Patrick into his body.

Patrick hit Jonny's chest with force, and Jonny groaned with pain. But that didn't stop Patrick from wrapping his arms around Jonny's back. He squeezed softly, just letting Jonny know that he was there. He leaned his head forward, pressing his forehead into the muscle just below Jonny's shoulder, and let out shaky breaths into the collar of Jonny's shirt. Jonny sighed, and clutched at Patrick like his life depended on it. Because even though Jonny would never admit it, his life  _did_ depend on Patrick.

Jonny snaps out of his daydream as Donna pulls out of his grasp. She takes a step back to grab Jonny's cheeks, framing his face. Donna blinks back a few tears once, twice, and then raises to her toes to press a kiss to Jonny's forehead. Jonny bites his lower lip and holds back everything - the thoughts, the feelings, the worry.

When Donna pulls back, she's still holding on to Jonny's face, like she's afraid he will fall apart if she lets go. "Jon, I know what you're thinking," she begins. Jonny immediately wants to argue back that Donna knows  _nothing_. How can she know when even Jonny doesn't know? When  _Patrick_ doesn't know? There's no way. He shakes his head, but not hard enough to shake her grip on him. "None of this is your fault, Jonathan. Stop telling yourself otherwise."

_It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault._

He can't rid of the daunting thoughts. He can't help but flash back to when he found Patrick lying on the floor in his bathroom, passed out, with a bottle of vodka and six beer cans surrounding him. He can't shake the memory of scurrying to Patrick's side, wrestling him to wake up, screaming 'Patrick, please. Please. Wake up. Please. Please, Patrick,' and Patrick not waking up from his unconscious state, and Jonny having to carry him to his car parked in the garage (because Jonny knows better than to park on the street where paparazzi float around looking for some pictures to spark a fucked-up story), and rushing him to the hospital. Jonny doesn't forget when Patrick woke up, but the doctors told Jonny that he almost killed himself from the amount of alcohol he had consumed: over 40% of his blood stream was concentrated with alcohol. If Jonny didn't find him sooner, he could've died. And Jonny broke down, collapsed to the floor in a heap, a mess of tears and hiccuping breaths overwhelming him to the point where he passed out.

Jonny doesn't think Donna even knows that night. But by the look possessed in her eyes - sorrow, that is - Jonny can only assume she knows a couple of things that he probably figured she didn't. He lowers his head to his chest, digging his chin into his sternum. This is all so fucked up.

"It's all my fault," Jonny tells her, spelling his thoughts out loud. Donna lifts his head, but Jonny can't meet her eyes. He just  _can't_.

"No, it's not, Jonathan," she says with a stern voice. "None of this is your fault. You've done everything you can to help Patrick."

 _But not enough_.

Jonny sniffles instead, leaving the words to hang in the air between them. Donna nods. She gets it. She always does.

Now Pat Sr. turns to Jonny when Donna removes her hands from his cheeks. Jonny reaches out with his right hand for a handshake. But Pat Sr. goes right in for the hug instead, tucking Jonny's head into his shoulder. And Jonny finally gives up his strength and cries. And cries. And cries.

 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

 

Patrick has to stay in the hospital for the next few days while the doctors monitor his concussion and broken rib. Jonny can't stay that long, so once Patrick sees his parents, Jonny decides to leave around four in the afternoon and go right to sleep. But as soon as he opens the door, Lindsey bombards him with questions.

"Where the fuck have you  _been_?" Lindsey screams about two inches away from Jonny's face. He just stands there, unamused by her spewing meaningless questions at him. "I've been calling your for hours, Jonathan. I've called your mother, your father, your brother - hell, I even called  _Patrick_."

Jonny bites the inside of his cheek while tuning out the rest of Lindsey's rant. He's not going to tell his girlfriend that he actually went to Patrick's apartment to talk to him, that Patrick got beat up and Jonny had to take him to the hospital. No way. Lindsey would flip shit, no differently than she's currently doing right now.

He can't depict the last time Linds was this agitated with him. Maybe it was when they were home in Manitoba last summer and Jonny got drunk out of his mind trying not to think of Patrick. But she wasn't necessarily mad at him - more so peeved that Jonny was so distant from his family and friends while he sat in his cabin and drowned in beer, tears, and feelings, barely even going out to fish or jet ski with everyone else. It felt weird that Patrick wasn't there with him for Canada Day, which he usually always is. It's their thing. Patrick travels up to Manitoba for Canada Day, and then the two of them fly down to Buffalo for Independence Day.

Obviously, none of that occurred last year. And it killed Jonny that everything was wrong. It was all off. His entire summer was fucked up because of him. Patrick didn't even do anything. Jonny had been fucking foolish to believe what he saw online and on the news. If only he did something different. He can't flash back and change things - that's life.

"Jonathan, are you even listening to me?" Lindsey yells, shaking her head back forth while gesturing wildly to Jonny. He blinks, then blinks again.

"I'm going to go to bed," Jonny announces, and Lindsey is  _fuming_ as he turns on his heel and walks towards the stairs. Lindsey yanks Jonny back by grabbing onto his shoulder.

"No, you're fucking not. You are going to sit here and tell me why you've been gone for almost twenty-four hours, and why you didn't even tell me." Lindsey's eyes soften when Jonny fists his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. His face must give something away, because Lindsey takes a step back. Jonny doesn't want to be intimidating, but when his girlfriend furrows her eyebrows, he sighs.

Jonny glances down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I just," he begins, but doesn't know where to end. Then he starts crying, and jesus, he's a mess now. He's definitely looking gross, since he hasn't showered in two days. He wonders what's going through Lindsey's head right now.

She steps forward and wraps her arms around Jonny, digging her head into his chest, and this hug is all too similar to Patrick's hugs. Fuck, he misses Patrick already and he just saw him half an hour ago.

He can't do this. He pulls back from Lindsey, lightly shoving her off of him, and her mouth drops open a little when he backs up three steps. Jonny hates to see Lindsey look so befuddled, because Jonny never backs away from his girlfriend. But things are different, and Jonny is done trying to please everyone all of the time. He needs to do things for himself from now on.

"What?" Lindsey whispers, her voice breaking, eyes searching all over Jonny as if she's trying to find something. But nothing's there. Jonny purposely blocks her off with a poker face. He can't let her see how broken he is inside, but the tears are still slipping out of his eyes as he shuts them. He opens his mouth to talk, but Lindsey goes first. "Why are you doing this?"

Jonny bites his lower lip. "I don't know," he tells her, and it's the god's honest truth. He has no clue what's going through his brain right now, since it's racing at a million miles an hour and there's no way to stop it.

He opens his eyes, and glances at Lindsey, and it  _hurts_. It's awful to see his girlfriend silently sobbing, and Jonny keeps botching it all up. It's all wrong. When did his life get so goddamn complicated?

"Jonathan," Lindsey mutters. It's broken, just like everything else in Jonny's life. "I know you've been going through a really rough time since that whole thing with Patrick last year," and Jonny really,  _really_ can't listen to her talking about this. Shit. He looks at Lindsey while she keeps talking, and he wonders if he was ever in love with Lindsey. She's beautiful, and Jonny knows that. It's a fact, not an opinion. She's so incredibly sweet, and the relationship is easy. Maybe that's the problem.

Jonny thinks back to when life was simpler. Patrick and Jonny were best friends, snug tight in a booth at Studio Paris. They clinked their beers together after a witty comment Patrick made on Sharpy's hair - which was all over the place. Jonny smiled at Patrick, who was already grinning at him - all cheeky with his damn dimples and bright blue eyes. And fuck, if that didn't make Jonny warm throughout his entire body. Someone coughed in the background, loudly enough that Jonny heard it over the music. Patrick turned his head to face whoever it was, but Jonny continued to stare, and he knew he was creeping. He could not have cared less in that moment.

'Bombshell, three o'clock,' Seabs whispered in Jonny's ear. He jumped while he faced his torturous teammate. Seabs had a smirk plastered on his face, and his head twitched towards where one of the waitresses was passing the drinks on her tray to various customers. Yeah, his teammate was right. Jonny scanned her body, clearly checked her out. Long legs, skirt cutting off just below her ass, tight V-neck showing off her chest, and her gorgeous -  _wow_. He chewed on his lower lip.

And, goddamn it, the waitress noticed Jonny looking at her, and she stalked over, hips swaying, with a small grin perched on her lips. Jonny didn't remember if she was their waitress, but he didn't give a shit in the moment because then she's hovered over the table, giving every one of the guys a glance until her eyes fell solely on Jonny.

'Hey, guys. Anything to drink?' the girl said to everyone, but still all eyes on Jonny. He was on fire - a strange kind of warmth. He felt uncomfortable under her gaze. And what the hell is wrong with him? There was beautiful girl standing directly in front of him, and that was his clear chance to get her number or ask her out or  _both_. But Jonny didn't notice Patrick went to the bathroom, and he stood behind the girl with his eyes wide. Patrick flickered his eyes from Jonny to the girl, from the girl to Jonny, until Jonny had the attention of both of them.

Someone tapped his shoulder. Jonny craned his neck to Duncs, who was gesturing for Jonny to give the gorgeous woman his drink order. Jonny nodded, turned back to the girl, but the only person he saw was Patrick. Patrick, Patrick,  _Patrick -_ whose eyes were narrowed at Jonny, jaw clenched as Jonny gave the waitress his drink order, mouth frowned when the girl came back with Jonny's receipt with a phone number scribbled at the bottom.

_Call me sometime. - Lindsey :)_

Jonny didn't think that could've messed everything up. But it did. Jonny forced himself to go out on a couple of dates with Lindsey, despite all of Patrick's protests. Patrick constantly told him there was something off about the situation, but Jonny pushed forward, eventually asked her to be his girlfriend. Then Patrick found Amanda, and shit went down south from there. And it was all of his fault. Even when everybody else said none of it was caused by him, it actually was.

He shouldn't have asked Lindsey to be his girlfriend. He shouldn't have asked Lindsey out on a date. He shouldn't have texted Lindsey that next morning. He shouldn't have given Lindsey his drink order after he saw the look on Patrick's face. Fuck, he shouldn't have done that to Patrick, not the night after they - 

This is too much for Jonny. He's so overwhelmed - Patrick's in the hospital, and his girlfriend is talking about Patrick right now, and-

"-and I think we need to break up."

Jonny shakes his head to snap back to reality. Lindsey's staring at him, zero expression displaying on her features. Wait,  _what_?

"Wait, what?" Jonny repeats, but out loud instead of to himself. He had been predicting more of an outburst of emotion from Lindsey, but instead she's saying they need to be over. Jonny closes his eyes for a couple of seconds, reopens them, and continues to look at his girlfriend with total bewilderment.

Lindsey drops her head, swaying back and forth with her hands knotted at her front. Her long blonde hair falls to block her face. "I just - I think we need to end this, Jon." She looks back up at Jonny from beneath her eyelashes, and damn it, Jonny really wishes he never did this to her.

Jonny collapses in a heap on the floor, slowly, and tugs his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth. Lindsey scurries over to his side, taking the spot to the right of him, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders at an awkward angle. Jeez, she should not be the one consoling him right now. Especially when Lindsey tips her head forward so it lands on Jonny's bicep, tears soaking into his shirt. He shivers.

Silence closes in on them. Their breathing has slowed, and the only thing Jonny can pick up is his own heart beating furiously fast. He recalls all of the times he's been in this position - on the floor with questions surrounding him of where and when it all went wrong. It's too many times, Jonny knows that much.

"Jon," Lindsey mumbles quietly. "If I ask you a question, will you promise to answer it truthfully?" Jonny sighs. He knows what's coming. He knows exactly what Lindsey is going to ask him, and he knows how he should respond. He knows what the right statement should be. He also knows that he's been lying for all of these years -  _so many years_ \- and if responding correctly will fix it all, then he must give truthful answers from this moment on.

So Jonny nods, unable to say the simple word that is  _yes_ , but Lindsey takes it, nodding her own head against Jonny's arm. She tilts her head up, chin resting on his shoulder now.

"Were you ever in love with me?" Lindsey asks. Jonny breathes, trembling with his exhale. There's no way he can't let Lindsey down, no matter how he answers. She knows if he admits it, he's telling the truth, but the lying will break her even more. Jonny gets that.

He shakes his head at the question, so slow that it's torture. "I'm sorry," he bites out, cracking a sob. He expects Lindsey to move away from him, to never forgive him for lying to her all of these years for what he thought was the right thing to do. But Jonny wasn't just misleading his girlfriend. He was misleading himself, which is the worst part of it all.

It was real, the connection he and Lindsey have had for so long. But the reciprocated love wasn't there from him, no matter how much Lindsey was in love with him. It didn't ever match up. And Jonny feels horrible for doing that to her. He's fucked up a lot, to say the least.

"Jonathan, it's okay," Lindsey consoles him. Jonny gathers up the courage to twist his neck to look at Lindsey, who's now staring off in the distance. "I always, you know, sort of figured that this relationship was one-sided." She takes a deep breath, then sighs. She peers over at Jonny. "I truly realized it last summer when you were so wrecked about Patrick. There wasn't anything I could do to fix it all. You kept blocking me out, you weren't even talking to your family, and I figured there was something more to it thank Patrick just being your best friend."

Jonny squeezes his eyes because, yeah, Patrick's always been more than a best friend to Jonny, and it's as if it's never been a secret. Lindsey knows, Sharpy knows, and probably the entire world knows. Jonny ponders if Patrick ever noticed. Maybe not, considering they've been hovering around each other for so long, trying their best to avoid ripping their friendship to shreds.

"Please don't be mad at me," Lindsey whispers. Jonny had no idea he blanked out, and Lindsey is staring at him with tears brewing. He's surprised either of them have any water left in their eyes, if he's being honest. He shakes his head at Lindsey, because he's not mad at all. He's more relieved that she was honest with him than anything else.

"Linds, I'm not mad," he informs her. His face softens. "There's no reason for  _me_ to be mad. If anything, you're the one who should be angry with me."

Lindsey cracks a laugh. "God, Jon, I'm not angry with you at all. I just wish you would've realized this all before for your own sake so you weren't sitting in your own misery forever and a decade." And Jonny can't help but laugh right back, because she's right, as usual. All of Jonny's teammates and friends perceived Lindsey as dumb, but she's one of the smartest people he's ever known.

They both smile down at the ground, then at each other. Jonny hasn't felt this at ease in a long time. He couldn't have ever imagined feeling alleviation after a breakup, but this was probably long overdue for the both of them. Lindsey meets his eyes, and Jonny can tell she's content with their relationship being over.

"I do love you, Lindsey," Jonny says. Lindsey glares at him with a hint of sarcasm.

"C'mon, I know you do. You were never  _in love_ with me, though." Jonny nods.

"Yeah, I know that. I'm so sorry-"

" _Jonathan_ ," Lindsey warns. Jonny closes his mouth, biting on his lower lip, because now Lindsey's annoyed Jonny keeps apologizing for something he barely knew he was doing. "If you keep apologizing, I'm going to slap you in the face." He bites back a laugh. Lindsey raises an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, okay. Jeez." Lindsey gives him a soft smile and lightly punches him in the arm. Solace washes over him as he and Lindsey fall into a comfortable silence. Jonny yearns for things to be this easy with her from now on. "Hey, Linds?"

"Mhmm?"

"We're still friends, right?" Lindsey snickers.

"Of course we are. Don't be ridiculous, Jonathan Toews." She punches him in the arm again, smirking. "Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean we can't be around each other. I still care about you, and you still care about me." Jonny grins and drags Lindsey closer to him, snugging her tight against his body. Her head fits over his shoulder in their embrace, and her breath skims across his ear. "We're not in love, but we still love one another. I'd say it's a win-win situation for both of us if we hang on to each other."

Jonny pulls back a little to glance at Lindsey, expression full of endearment. "Why is this the easiest breakup I've ever had?"

Lindsey chuckles. "Because I'm a realist, Jon." She lays a hand gently on his check. "And you're one of the best people I've ever met. Just because you're not into girls doesn't mean I'm going to hate you for it." The word makes him tense up. He's never heard someone else tell him that before. Well, one other time - but he's never heard someone say it so out of the blue like Lindsey just did. Jonny narrows his eyes at her. Lindsey rolls her own and scoots back a bit. "Please. I know you well enough by now to know that you aren't attracted to girls, and you never have been."

He scoffs at that. Of course he was attracted to girls. "I was attracted to girls-"

"Was," Lindsey cuts him off, putting air quotes around the word. "Jon, I get that it's hard. I have enough friends that have come out to me before, and I'm not judgmental. I still love you no matter who  _you_ love." She shrugs. "A relationship is a relationship, whether you're with a girl or a guy. It doesn't matter. What matters is your happiness, and you weren't happy with me as your girlfriend." Jonny goes to cut her off, plead that he used to be, but Lindsey just holds a hand up to stop him. He shuts his mouth, not even bothering to argue. "Don't even, Jonathan. You wanted to believe that I could make you happy - that a  _woman_ could make you happy - and it was never going to happen. You're a hockey player, and you're afraid what everyone is going to think and say if anyone finds out you're gay. But I need you to do me a favor and trust me with this, okay?"

Jonny scrunches his nose while Lindsey focuses on him, eyes flickering all over his face, trying to read his expressions. He sits there, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. He didn't think Lindsey would understand, would get it, would be okay with it. But she  _is_ , and Jonny was so set on her judging him that he doesn't know where to go from here.

Lindsey places a hand on top of his knee to get him to stop shaking so much. "I'm here with you every single step of the way. It's hard to come to terms with stuff like this, sometimes. But I'm here for you, alright?" Jonny opens his mouth to say yes, but no words leave his mouth. After multiple tries, he resorts to the usual head nod. Lindsey beams at him, and she stands up, holding out a hand for Jonny to stand as well. Of course, he takes it, and as soon as he's on his feet, Lindsey drags him into a bear hug. Jonny breathes in and out slowly, finally able to focus on his thoughts and that Lindsey is still here for him, no matter what happens. She cares. He needs that.

Despite the end of their dating life, Lindsey has always been one of Jonny's greatest friends. She's always there when he needs her - ready to talk about anything in a millisecond. Jonny is always loose around her. He can be his goofy self without her judgment, because he knows she's never one to judge. And listening to her saying so was music to Jonny's ears. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, soaking in the moment for as long as possibly can.

"Thank you, Lindsey," he mumbles in her ear.

"Anytime. I love you, Jonny," Lindsey replies. Jonny smiles. He can't recall the last time his heart was filled with such bliss.

This time, he doesn't have to lie, because he knows that Lindsey won't take the words the wrong way. Jonny can easily let them fill his throat, flutter on his tongue, and glide out of his mouth.

"I love you, too," he says back, and it's one hundred percent the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, crazy right? This kind of seemed a little early for me to write, but keep in mind Jonny hasn't completely accepted the fact that he's gay yet. Lindsey saying it was the one of the first times someone had told him he was, and Jonny is still on the edge of the fence with the whole situation. 
> 
> This breakup plays a huge role in the rest of the story though, I promise. The evolving of their friendship will change a lot of things for the better. It's only the start of the journey.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading! Love you all :)


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